


Pearlescent

by Bad Samaritan (quodpersortem)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Heatwave, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Popsicle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/Bad%20Samaritan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's May and their AC is broken. The actual plan is to cool down, but Cas-whaddayaknow-sucks at sticking to rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pearlescent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purloinedinpetrograd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purloinedinpetrograd/gifts).



> Inspired by {[this gifset](http://cock-et-crepes.tumblr.com/post/51650650889/x)}. I hope you're alone in a room when you click that link, or at least with people who appreciate some top banana masculine beauty.

When Dean walks into their shitty little apartment, he groans at the heat he finds inside the room. Obviously, the AC is still broken. Dean’s pretty sure that only bad things come from that—gross clothes, grosser bedding, and horrible grades on his upcoming exams.

Oh, and Cas. Not that Cas is bad, per se, just that he can be a bit, well,-

Cas is leaning against the kitchen counter, sulkily sucking on a popsicle. He’s wearing grey boxer-briefs that clearly show the outline of his dick and that’s exactly what Dean thought Cas might have planned, and he groans as his dick perks up in a pavlovian response. 

He _was_ going for a beer. Maybe something else chilled, to cool down. 

Now, he definitely won’t.

Cas looks up at him, smiling a little as he closes his lips around the popsicle. Dean stands in front of him, pressing their hips together, and licks the seam of Cas’ lips around the ice. The syrup drips down their chins and the front of Dean’s shirt, but right before Dean wants to step back and take away his shirt, Cas pulls away the popsicle and draws him in for a deeper kiss. The frozen candy thumps against the bottom of the sink and then Cas’ hands, sticky and damp, are in Dean’s hair.

Dean slides his finger down Cas’ chest, slipping a little in the sweat, and then runs a nail along the hardening line of his cock. “You’re so hot,” he whispers against Cas’ lips before kissing him again, biting at his lips and sucking on his tongue, and all the other obscene things he used to think were gross when he just _watched_ gay porn.

“You too, Dean,” Cas laughs breathily, pushing at Dean’s shoulders until he takes a step back. “Too hot, in fact.” Then he shoves the heel of his hand against his own dick, arching his back so far over the counter that his head thumps against one of the kitchen cabinets. Dean can see the muscles in his thighs tremble, his abs contract, and shivers regardless of the heat. 

“Too hot for this weather, huh,” he drawls, taking off his own shirt and then unbuttoning his jeans with one hand while he unties his shoelaces with the other.

“Definitely,” Cas smiles, spreading his legs a little. His cock’s growing harder in his underwear and Dean’s mouth waters at the sight, his own dick twitching. Dean kicks his jeans aside and then sits down on their small dining table, a little wobbly under his weight, but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold him. Cas stares at him, his blue eyes going dark an hooded when they land on Dean’s dick, as snug in his underwear by now as Cas’ own.

“How d’you wanna do this?” Dean asks, shuddering as he rubs his fingers over the tip, the thin layer of cloth already going damp. They’ve done this before, hell, it’s the way they started out in the first place—but shit, it’s hot as hell when Cas pushes his hips forward, grinding his cock into his hand.

“Like this,” Cas smirks, putting his hands on the counter and pushing his hips up in the air. Dean can see Cas’ cock twitch and feels a drop of precome slide down his skin. “Hands free.”

“I don’t know if-“ Dean starts to protest, fingers gripping the table, but Cas interrupts him.

“Tonight, when it’s cooled down, I’ll fuck you,” he tells Dean. “Take my time opening you up, with my fingers and tongue,” and Dean can see Cas’ abs flexing, his cock jutting against the cloth whenever he does, and he realizes that Cas might’ve done this in public places. God. He circles his own hips, desperate for friction but getting nowhere near enough. “With lots of lube, ‘till you’re begging for it. Dean, fuck,” Cas moans, “I love it when you beg.”

“I know you do,” Dean grunts, “You’re about to make me beg now. What else would you do?”

“I’d push into you,” Cas keeps up the steady hip pumps and there’s definitely a dark spot near the head of his cock, “Really slowly. Deliberately, so you’d get to feel every single inch.” He stares at Dean, licking his lips as if he’s envisioning it, his face flushed, and Dean shudders again, arousal running hot through his veins. “No condom. And then I’ll fuck you, nice and easy, and you’ll be biting the pillow by then because you’ll get so fucking loud. Don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

“Christ, Cas,” Dean groans. “I’ll get back at you for that,” he threatens, even though he loves everything Cas describes, loves taking it slow because it makes him come hardest. 

“Oh yeah?” Cas smiles sweetly, even though Dean barely notices because Cas’ dick is what’s really mesmerizing. “What would you do?”

“ _Will_ ,” Dean corrects him, “Shit, I’ll take you out somewhere. Maybe in class, I fucking hate (any class you’d like). We’ll sit at the back and you’re going to do whatever the fuck you’re doing now and-“ he takes a pause to gasp. His cock is sliding against the precome in his underwear and when he tenses his muscles just so it magnifies the sensation and it’s what Cas has been doing the entire time—oh—“And I’ll whisper dirty things in your ear. Really dirty, the kind you love-“

“Like?” Cas grins, his movements a little faster now. 

“Like I’m going to let you go down on me while I’m wearing handcuffs, proper ones,” Dean smirks, getting more and more into it, sweat dripping down his back. “And I’ll beg you for more, you know I will-“

“Yeah,” Cas agrees, “Yes you will.” Cas’ eyes fall closed as his hips start pistoning in the air. He moans a little and Dean sighs, leaning back against the table and taking in the view. 

“And then I’ll let you fuck me, just like you told me before. Slow, and I know you, you’d slow down the more I ask for it,” Dean stares at Cas, whose entire body seems to be moving now, muscles taut and trembling. He’s sure that if he walked over now and pressed the palm of his hand against Cas’ cock, he’d be coming. He doesn’t, though. Instead he says, “And then, then when you can’t take it anymore, when my begging fucking breaks you, you fuck me hard and fast. God, imagine the feel of that, Cas,” Dean moans, definitely imagining the feel of it himself. “Imagine how tight I’ll be, how soft and how wet, and how easy you’ll fuck into me.”

“Dean,” Cas pants, his knuckles going white on the counter a second before he grabs hold of his crotch with both hands, his hips pushing forward as semen wells up through the fabric of his boxers and then starts to slip down his thigh. He tries to catch it with his hands, desperately grasping fingers, but it keeps slipping through and that’s hot, Jesus that’s hot, and then Dean’s sliding his hand in his boxers.

Cas looks at him, eyes half-lid and bright, so Dean jacks himself rough and fast, the inside of his underwear almost entirely slick and damp because there’s so much precome, and then he’s coming as well. He moans, perhaps Cas’ name, his butt still perched on the end of their table as he can feel spunk hot against his skin, nasty and wet when it slides down through the gap at his leg, fabric stretched by his hand and boner. 

Even before his cock is done twitching, drooling out the last drops of come, Cas is on him. His hands are wet but he wipes them off Dean’s butt, and his mouth is hot and Dean’s really, really too sensitive for this right now but it feels great to be touching him again.

“Maybe we should take a shower,” Cas murmurs. Dean nods, rubbing their lips together before stealing another kiss. 

“A cold one,” Dean mutters. 

“Yeah,” Cas nods as well. “And then we’ll wait till it gets dark and then-“

“Then what?” Dean smiles, sliding a hand up to come to rest on Cas’ neck. His hair sticks to Dean’s fingers, wet with sweat, but Dean can’t bring himself to care. 

“Then I’ll get my reward. For winning,” Cas grins smugly.

“I thought that we decided that the person who came last won?” Dean smirks back and Cas laughs, deep and throaty.

“You are a filthy liar who lies, Dean Winchester.” He grabs Dean’s wrist and starts to tug him in the direction of the bathroom. “Maybe, if you’re very kind to me, I won’t force you to wash your mouth with soap now.”

Dean laughs along and follows Cas, patting his bum when he catches up with him and then joins him in the bathroom.


End file.
